memento amare (ao3) ~5.3k for @iwritebetterthanispeak
Parting ways has never been in their plans, not even for just a moment; it's no surprise Yuuri and Victor have a terrible time saying goodbye, even if for just several weeks. When longing hits hard, memories sweeten it right up.
(You've heard about History Makers. Now prepare for Memory Makers. In which Yuuri and Victor share their life and love with each other even when they're not physically together.)
76. ‘I want you to have this.’ in the 100 ways to say ‘I love you’ series.
Twenty minutes left—of everything. And then, it'll be over again. In retrospect, the whole spring, summer, and autumn have passed in a blink of an eye, managing to somehow steal those few precious moments Victor had with Yuuri in a blur. In the Fukuoka airport, it doesn't matter that they've had months together. Now it's nineteen minutes left and Victor really should go.
But how can he leave when Yuuri holds his hand so tightly as though it were his lifeline?
“Attention. Last call to all passengers flying out to Moscow,” rings out a female voice. As the standard request to go through the check-in reverberates through the crowded hall, Victor sighs and rubs his dry, achy eyes.
It’s time; he can’t put it off any longer or he’ll miss the flight.
“I need to go.”
Yuuri's weight shifts then, his head on Victor's shoulder grows heavier just for a moment, only to move away. They try to keep as close to each other as possible even with Victor double checking his documents. And when he reaches for his baggage—
“I want you to have this,” Yuuri blurts and in a blink of an eye pushes into Victor's hands something he certainly wasn't holding before. The final warning for Victor's plane still echoes through the air when a neatly wrapped package lands in his hands.
“What is this?”
But Yuuri’s face is half hidden by his scarf, his eyes glued to the package. Victor hugs it close to his chest, just in case Yuuri's mind gives him a stupid, stupid idea to take the gift away. It seems to do the trick—Yuuri blinks and looks at Victor again.
He says, “Don't open it till you miss me.”
Silly, silly man. As if he doesn't know...
“I already miss you.”
The reflection of the overhead lights doubles in Yuuri's eyes. He breathes a short, wet laugh, cut by a barely-there sniffle. “Then open it in Russia,” Yuuri says, “when you're home.”
Victor bites back the 'Here is my home’ and instead says, “I love you.”
The package weighs in on his mind and luggage through the whole trip. Even Makkachin seems affected.
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